Monday, June 23, 2008


"Death is caused by swallowing small amounts of saliva over a long period of time. "

George Carlin has died. This was the first thing I heard as my alarm clock broke the morning silence with radio news. I know many have already posted on this so I’m not going to go on at length. Oddly enough I’m still a little dazed. George Carlin has made me laugh, made me think, since my early adolescence. Carlin’s humor was one of the first things I shared with the younger and seemingly hipper adults in my life and that leveling of the generational landscape informed the development of my own sense of humor. It is strange to know that he is no longer out there in the broader world stirring up much needed trouble, taking authority to task, helping us laugh at ourselves. I can only hope that he will attain some sort of secular afterlife, that though he is gone his work will continue to live and to inspire others to look more closely at the world around them; see the folly, illogic, hypocrisy inherent in our culture and language and outraged, bemused or confounded, rant about it just a little bit.

George Carlin
1937 – 2008
“Frisbeetarianism is the belief that when you die, your soul goes up on the roof and gets stuck.” – G. Carlin

Saturday, June 14, 2008


A is for apple

Just got the time to watch the season premiere if Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D-List on the DVR.

Seems she is… or was… dating Steve Wozniak. Woz (unlike the other Steve of Apple fame who is over-busy trying to be either the A-list Ron Popeil or the L. Ron Hubbard of compu-gadgets {is there a difference?}) was so damn cute. Not in an oh-my-god-I-could-eat-you-with-a-spoon kind of way, but in that way that all of us who feel an attraction to nerdy geeky guys know and adore. He’s sweet, smart, cuddly, a little socially and culturally clueless… and filthy effin’ rich!

If that’s life on the D-list, honey, downgrade my ticket and make it a one-way!

Can I get an “AMEN”?

Friday, June 06, 2008


It is Friday... right?

I made it to work despite stackable packets of drama. First I was stopped on my way out the door by one of the plumbers from next door asking me to move my world traveling housemate’s car so that they could get their rolling warehouse of a truck out of the shared driveway. This required a trip back upstairs for the key and an unnecessarily elaborate job of parallel parking in the only available space that did not require driving around the block. I wonder how well this thing was actually going to roll seeing as if recollection serves it has at least one flat tire if not more. That’s their problem I suppose, but they had better not backed over the garden or they will have a real problem.

All of this was most likely moot in the grander scheme of things since I arrived at the bus stop to find ten or so anxious and aggravated people waiting for the bus. There were a dozen of us by the time the twin pair of 66 busses finally arrived. I suspect that had I proceeded directly to the bus stop eschewing the opportunity for un-caffeinated parking Jenga I still would have ended up boarding the same bus.

The bus brought me into Harvard Square and due to the ongoing construction dropped me and my fellow passengers a block or more from the nearest T station entrance… in the rain. An inbound red line train showed up rather promptly. I got on the exact car at the exact door that would line me up with the exit from the platform at my destination… riiiiiight. I looked down and spotted some sort of wee canine which was obviously the result of some terribly ill-advised but nonetheless expensive parental pairing. Owing to my allergies and erring on the side of caution I quickly hopped off and dashed into the adjacent car. No dogs, no crazies and at the next stop I even got a seat… this soon revealed itself to be only a reason for false hope. We bogged down in the tunnels several times. Apparently a delayed train somewhere ahead had caused a back-up cascading delays back up the line. By the time we pulled into Downtown Crossing they had closed the gate to the escalator that is opened at rush hour to prevent a terrific bottleneck at the single-file one-way turnstile gate. The only upside to this was the tacky woman trying to navigate the revolving bars of steel with her stupid little accessory dog on a string in tow, hastened by the very real threat that the swelling crowd would only pause so long before forcing the issue and employing the gate upon her person in the manner of a blunt and brutal Cuisinart. Obstacle removed; one by one we filed through the gate and ascended the escalator to step out into the now much more aggressive wind and rain. By the time this little adventure had wound itself to a close I arrived at my destination, my place of necessary yet tiresome employment, a half an hour late.

To quote the Diva Bayless, "Thank Judy It’s Friday!"

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